Harry Potter and the Assassin's Creed
by The Lord of Fanfiction
Summary: James, Sirius and Remus always had a secret. James and Sirius took it to their grave and in their death Remus is inspired to share this secret with his best friend's son. They were Assassins and if Harry is to have any hope of defeating Voldemort, he too must become one. With Remus' training in hand will Harry have what he needs to defeat the Dark Lord?


**Chapter 1 **

_TapTapTapTap _

A slow sound.

_TapTapTapTap_

A quiet sound.

_TapTapTapTap_

Hardly above a whisper.

_TapTapTapTap_

It sounded like drumbeats to him.

_TapTapTapTap_

Incessant. Pounding. The sound of war in his ears.

_TapTapTapTap_

It is so loud in fact that it took him a moment to realize it is him making the sound. He gazed down at his hand. His fingers have already begun their descent.

_TapTapTap_

He clenched his fingers, rolling his hand into a fist. The final tap is never made and the room fell into a painful silence.

Remus Lupin's life could not be described as a bright one. In fact his life had been incredibly dark. He had lived with the moon's curse since he was a small boy. He had watched his mother drive herself mad over this fact and his father descend slowly into depression. It had remained the same throughout his years at school. He had constantly had to hide what he was, where he went at the end of every month, even from those he called friends. It became worse after school. His curse was now public knowledge and work was difficult to come by for no one wished to hire a werewolf.

Yet throughout his dark, depressing life there had always been three lights that shone down upon him. Three loving, caring friends whom he treasured above all else. Fourteen years ago two of those lights had been extinguished. One by Death and one by Betrayal. James Potter had been like a brother to him and his Death was like a silver spike through his heart. And though he did not share the same closeness with Peter Pettigrew, he had still been a friend and Peter's betrayal had crushed him.

Yet still Sirius Black remained. A child and a prankster at heart Sirius was always able to put a smile on his face, even in the darkest of times. And last night, his psychotic cousin had put an end to him. Remus had watched his best and last friend fall through that Veil. Why he had not died immediately as most do when the killing curse touches them, Remus did not know. Perhaps the Universe saw fit to punish him. Elongate his pain. Whatever the reason it happened and Remus would never forget it.

Now, almost twenty-four hours later, Remus sat inside his house, for he could never call this dank shack a home, contemplating what to do next. He couldn't go to Grimmauld Place. The house had sealed itself until the closest relative or Sirius' heir took control of it. Not that he wanted to step foot inside that house. It was just another painful reminder that Sirius was gone.

Remus gazed around his house. It was nothing but a rundown old shack. He couldn't afford anything more. It had two rooms, a kitchen and a bedroom. The kitchen contained old, rotten food and an unreliable set of chairs as well as a table. The bedroom held within it, a desk, a chair, and a dusty, uncomfortable mattress.

Remus had hoped he'd never have to come back to this place. In truth he didn't really have to. Even with Grimmauld Place closed there were several places he could go, the Leaky Cauldron being the most obvious. But he had been drawn back here by the allure of a possibility.

Beneath his feet, underneath heavily warded floorboards and several magical traps lied a chest. Within that chest lied a possibility that almost didn't warrant thinking about. That chest hadn't been opened in 14 years and Remus had never intended to open it again.

But Remus could not deny the fact that he wasn't alone. Not completely anyway. For though James and Lily Potter had both departed from this world, they didn't leave it untouched. Currently there was a fifteen year old boy, sitting inside Hogwarts mourning the loss of his Godfather and cursing the world for its cruelties. Remus guessed that Harry Potter felt much more alone than he did right now.

Remus knew the workings of Albus' mind. He knew his plans. He knew that he intended no training to be given to Harry. Remus also knew that Harry would have no chance when it came time to fight Voldemort and his hoard if he did not receive training. Most of all, though, Remus knew that it was within his power to train Harry.

Distracted by his musings, Remus did not even realize that he had stood up and withdrawn his wand. He had already dispelled half the wards guarding his chest and within a few seconds he had dispelled the rest. He removed the floorboards slowly and carefully disarmed several nasty magical traps.

Remus gazed down into the dark hole he had created. He could make out the outline of his chest, covered by a dank and musty shawl. Remus hesitantly removed the shawl, rubbing his palm against his robes in disgust after he did so and hauled the small chest upward.

Hesitantly he ran his hand across the surface of the chest, unwilling to open it. His past was in this chest and it was not something he wanted to dredge up. He had intended to leave it safe and sound within this chest. Yet he could practically hear James and Sirius' voice in his ears. Their expectation of him to go through with this and their disappointment in him if he didn't.

Remus undid the latches holding the chest closed with two short _click_'s. He had never felt the need for a more complicated locking mechanism due to the heavily warded area surrounding the chest.

In one quick motion Remus wrenched the chest open. _Like ripping off a band aid_, he thought. The preservation charms he had placed on the contents of the chests were still in place and everything within looked brand new.

Remus withdrew the first item, a large gray robe, and set it on the desk. Next he withdrew a shoulder sash, laden with daggers and set it on the robes. Lastly he reached inside the chest and pulled a metal arm brace from it. This, he slipped onto his right wrist and fixed into place. The fingers of his left hand caressed the item lovingly, with adoring familiarity. His thumb traced the trademark A of his organization.

Remus Lupin had been an Assassin since the beginning of the last war. It had been James and Sirius who had introduced him to the organization. James had been an Assassin by birth, trained at the age of eleven and beyond. Sirius had been introduced to the order at sixteen when he had run away from home to live with James. There, James' father had trained and instructed him in the ways of the Assassins.

When the last war against Voldemort began, James and Sirius took Remus aside and explained to him what they were and what they stood for. Remus had reacted violently at the word Assassin. He was still rather naïve at the time. After they calmed him down and explained what their purpose was and what their goal was Remus understood more and requested to join them. Sirius and James agreed and introduced him to the Order. After which they were instructed to train him.

Throughout the war Remus, James and Sirius led many attacks against Voldemort, using the Assassins. The Order of the Phoenix was none the wiser, though Albus nearly drove himself mad attempting to find these people and ask for their assistance.

When James went into hiding, he packed his robes and gear away in a chest and stored them somewhere at Godric's Hollow. Sirius did the same soon after. Where he did this, Remus didn't know. He hadn't lived at Grimmauld Place at the time but he nonetheless ceased using his robes and instead assisted the Order of the Phoenix more proactively.

After James died and Sirius was imprisoned, Remus too packed his Assassin identity away, intent on never using it again.

Yet here he was fourteen years later, idly extending and retracting his Hidden Blade. His robes were behind him, itching to be donned and there was a fifteen year old boy out there, eager to be trained and taught.

In the end, what other choice was there?

The robes still fit perfectly. They were as comfortable as he remembered. The sash, bearing twelve daggers, hugged his chest and back tightly and the Hidden Blade fit him like a glove. Remus couldn't suppress the grin on his face as he pulled his beaked hood over his head. It felt good to be back.


End file.
